Spencer's Tale
by poiuytrewq1234567890
Summary: flash forward 20 years. Violet has finally forgiven Tate. Everything's perfect...right? No. nothing in the Murder House is perfect. Especially newly dead girl, Spencer. Tate/Violet Tate/OC
1. Chapter 1

_It's been 20 years since the Harmon's death. The quaint little ghost family managed to scare away every single prospective buyer. In these 20 years a lot of things have happened. All of which are among the predictable. Violet finally forgave Tate. Chad finally started to end things with Patrick. Michael finally killed Constance. Yes a lot of things have happened. A lot of things that we knew that would have happened, happened. _

_But something is happening too, outside of the house... And it is going to effect everyone inside of Murder House_

_This is the tale of what happened_

_..._

_..._

The hot summer air brushed against my skin as I ran. I was sprinting actually. Escaping to be more correct.

Escaping from my abuser, my rapist...my father. My heart pounded harder and harder. This wasn't going to work. I couldn't keep running. I was running out of breath. My body ached as I turned my head around. I saw him a couple blocks behind me. He was slowing down. I had to find a way to rid him for good.

But what was I going to do about Andrew? Andrew was my older brother. Older by one year. Before I fully "developed" my father would take his anger out on Andrew. He would hit, punch, kick, curse, spit. The day I noticed Andrew's bruises was the day I became the next victim.

If I left, my dad would just go back to abusing Andrew. I couldn't put him through that, no not again.

My steps were getting shorter. I felt disgusting. My legs couldn't handle it anymore. No. They felt like bursting. I looked back again, he was further apart from me than before. Might as well lose him before he gets any closer. I ran towards the nearest house closest to me. It was an old house. My foot hastened it's way towards the doorstep. I banged against the wooden surface. "Please! Open! You have to help me!"

No response. I tried turning the knob but the door was locked. Dammit. I picked the one house that was empty. Paranoid, I looked behind my back again. I could see my dad turning down the street. No. This isn't safe. I have to get into this house. There wasn't enough time to go to a different one.

I slowly crept towards the window of the house. I didn't know what I was going to. I was just moving. Something inside of me told me that I had to do this. But what did I have to do? I didn't know. As if possessed by an unnatural spirit, my body slammed against the glass of the window. I felt myself rolling into the house, shards of glass stuck in my arm. They hurt like hell. I wanted to stop and wrap the wounds but there was no time to do so. I had to keep moving. Keep moving and avoid him at all costs. I scrambled my way to find balance again. My foot shook as I stood back up, cuts and slits along my body. My blood left a trail behind me.

I kept moving. Moving and moving. I ran up the stairs, dashed down the hallways, and turned into a room. I didn't know where I was but I knew I had to stay quiet. To stay hidden. Kind of pointless now that I noticed the path of blood that followed me.

Hot tears were burning its way down my cheek.I tried pushing them back. Crying made noises. Noises would attract him. I can't let him find me. No. I've ran too far to give up now. I had to follow through. If not, I'm not sure what he would do to me.

Footsteps.

I heard footsteps making it's way towards me. Panicked, I clasped a hand over my mouth. Don't make a sound. Keep still.

"Spencer! You fucking bitch! Get the fuck out here!" I heard his voice echo.

I shook my head, hand still over my mouth. Don't cry. Don't scream. Don't do anything. Just keep still.

The footsteps got louder as it neared me. Quietly, I crawled into the nearby closet. I closed the doors slowly. I waited nervously for him to leave. Hopefully, he will leave.

I was surrounded in complete darkness. There was a faint crack near the ground where the closet door ended. Rays of light shown through it. I tried avoiding that area hoping I could blend in with the black.

"Oh little Spencer. Foolish. Stupid. Naive. Little Spencer." The door crashed down revealing a dark shriveled up shadow. I heard myself whimper.

"Don't you ever fucking learn?" He started laughing using his hands to snatch me onto my feet. "DON'T YOU EVER FUCKING LEARN?" His voice suddenly turned angry. This was my dad's problem. He was bipolar. He was an alcoholic. He was insane and violent and...well...deadly.

His grip on my hand was rough. I wasn't sure if it was because his skin was dry or that his grip was tight. Probably both. His body reeked of alcohol and drugs. He pulled me in closer to him. His lips making it's way to mine. I kicked him before he could touch me.

He stumbled back surprised and angered. He still had a grip on my hand, "What THE FUCK did you just do!" Tears came pouring out my eyes. "What the FUCK are you crying about? Huh? You little bitch! Crying like a fucking SHIT!"

He let go of my wrists as he yelled. My hands wiggled around at the feel of freedom but my freedom was short-lived. Pretty soon his hands were clawing into my neck. He forcefully smashed my face against the wall. It didn't hurt much. At least not compared to the other things he has done to me. My head crashed a couple more times. I didn't remember how many. I didn't even bother to count.

I felt a warm liquid dripping down my forehead. It made it's way into my mouth as I cried for help. The blood mixed in perfectly with the taste of my salty tears.

The pain came back, rushing. Every part of my body throbbed. Throbbed with guilt. Throbbed with regret. Throbbed with anger.

But after a while, I stopped feeling everything. I couldn't hear. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't even speak or scream. All I knew was that he was still doing it.

He stopped after a while. I was on the ground. At first he stood over me, laughing and crying like the pathetic coward he was. Then he left. I was alone now.

I've heard stories at school before. Of souls being trapped inside their dead corpse. Like being buried alive in a coffin. I never believed it. I didn't have the time to. Being constantly abused and all.

Apparently that had happened to me. Except I wasn't stuck in a dead corpse. I was stuck in my living body. Well my living-dead body. What? Wait, no! My soul was stuck in my body? Well I don't know. One of them. Whatever.

The important thing was that I was dead.


	2. Chapter 2

"Yeah, no. I'm not dead. That's impossible." I tried explaining everything to her. There's no way I'm dead. If I'm dead then why can I still walk? WHy can I still Talk? Breathe? Hear? See? Feel? I can do those things because I'm still alive.

"Oh honey," the girl touched my arm. I flinched away nervously, "You're dead."

"Oh my god! No. I'm not dead!" Why couldn't she just drop it? It's impossible for me to be dead. Like what am I? A vampire? A werewolf? A ghost?

"Then how do you explain _that?_" She pointed towards my body. Not _my_ _body_ per say but my dead body. My corpse. There it was, laying on the ground, unconscious. I rubbed my eyes. I must have been imaging this. My mind must have been going insane. When my eyes opened again the body was still there. Dried blood from the wound on my forehead.

"You can see it too?" I asked.

She nodded. "That's your dead body. This is your ghost body. You're a ghost now. You wander through this house. Well not wander. It's kind of more like you're trapped actually."

"A ghost?" I laughed, "You expect me to believe that?"

The girl shrugged, "You don't have to believe me. I'm just telling you the truth."

"And why should I believe you? Especially on something as far-fetched as me being a ghost?"

"I don't know. Maybe because I have been one for 20 years."

"20 years huh?"

"Yeah. Being stuck in this house. It's hard to not count the days."

"And you're really a ghost?" I laughed a little.

"Obviously you don't believe me."

I shook my head still chuckling, "No I do not."

Then suddenly she disappeared. No where in the room. Did I imagine her too? What was going on?

"Do you believe me now?" The voice startled me. I turned around shrieking. There she was. Right there. She has disappeared and reappeared right in front of my eyes. Maybe she was right. Maybe I did die. Maybe I am a ghost.

I shook a little, "So...what you're saying is that...I'm a... ghost?"

"A ghost. obviously not like Caspar. Just a dead soul trapped inside of a living body."

"Dead huh?"

She laughed, "Yes. Dead as Disco."

"And I'm trapped here?"

"Inside the house. For the rest of eternity."

"For the rest of eternity?"

"Oh god. yes. Do you not know anything about being a ghost?"

"No. Apparently I just died. I don't know anything!" I was taking out my anger on her. I was getting mad. It's as if reality suddenly came crashing down.

I'm dead. I'm trapped inside of a house as a ghost. I'm not going to be able to see my friends anymore. What about Andrew? What am I going to do with him? Hopefully my dad would get arrested and Andrew would go to a safer house. A safer house with a nicer family. But what if my dad doesn't get arrested? Then what happens? No. I can't think like that. Not when I'm trapped. Good thoughts Spencer. good thoughts.

"Woah there. Okay." She hooked an arm around mine, "Guess I'm going to teach you the basics of being a ghost."

"Well you can start by teaching me your name."

She flipped her brown hair to the side. "Hayden."

**AUTHORS NOTE: I WAITED FOR THE END TO REVEAL WHO THE MYSTERIOUS FRIEND WAS. I KIND OF WANTED THAT MYSTERY WHERE IT COULD BE HAYDEN OR VIOLET.**

**ALSO I KNOW THAT THE FIRST TWO CHAPTERS ARE LIKE REALLY SHORT BUT THEY WILL GET LONGER. THESE ARE JUST TO INTRODUCE THE CHARACTERS AND EVERYTHING.**


	3. Chapter 3

Hayden finished explaining all of the houses history to me yesterday. I asked a lot of questions. Some I already knew the answers to. It just felt so unreal. Probably because, technically, _I_ am unreal.

Today I was alone. I sat by myself in the living room. Hayden was probably boning that guy she told me about yesterday. The model boy who has a thing for milfs. The dead one next door to be exact.

Loud thunks of footsteps neared my room. I turned around to find a girl and a boy around my age. The girl had a cigarette in her hand. "You must be the dead girl." she blew a puff of smoke into the air, "How'd you die?"

My face cringed as she said that. Dead girl. Well it's official. I'm dead. "I'm guessing you died from lung cancer?" I waved the smoke away from my face.

The girl laughed, "Hah. No. Suicide actually. Your turn. How'd you die?"

She cocked her head to the side waiting for an answer. I ignored her and looked at the boy standing next to her. He had blonde hair...long blonde hair. Dark eyes. Almost black. I paused.

Then it was like I was possessed or something. The same feeling that made me go crashing through that window. I had no control over my body. All I could do was stare at him. Why? Why couldn't I look away?

Then it hit me... why I was locked on him. There was something about him. Something different than most people.

"Okay. I know your new here and all but he's taken." The girl leaned in towards him.

I rolled my eyes in laughter, "Don't worry." I jumped to my feet and walked in front of the boy. His eyes are more intimidating up close. They are scary yet I'm not scared. I've been through much worse and a pair of black eyes are not going to break me.

"This is awfully close." He whispered a little bit nervous of what I was doing.

I smiled and backed away. My step was short so there was still a small amount of space in between us. The girl next to him looked more uncomfortable. "Get away from him. He's mine."

I rolled my eyes at her again. This made her mad. "I know your type! You bullshit piece of trash. You're just like every other girl in California-"

I shook my head impatiently interrupting her, "No I'm not. You know shit about me."

She laughed a little bit. Her laugh sounded like a 10-year old boy's. One that hasn't gone through puberty yet. "What's the problem? What's your shit? Your football boyfriend cheated on you? They ran out of Zac Posen dresses in your size? Daddy didn't buy you the car you wanted?" The boy crossed his arms beside her, laughing along.

In a way I could see how she would pin me as a "California Bitch." I was wearing a Marchesa dress. A really expensive one in fact. It was a casual day dress but it was an expensive casual day dress. My heels were back at my house. My old house. I took them off before running away. Taking them off made it easier to run. I probably should have changed too but there wasn't enough time for that. The dress was part of the reason I ran so slow.

**-why Spencer ran away-**

**I was in Marty's car as he drove me home from the summer fair. Summer fairs in California were different then the summer fairs anywhere else. For one thing, the summer fairs here included indie bands, celebrity sightings, and gourmet chefs.**

**My hands tugged down at my purple dress. The purple was supposed to enhance my eyes. I, personally, hated that I had purple eyes. No one normal has purple ****eyes anymore. Well...I thought again...I'm not exactly normal. **

**I kicked off my pumps and tossed them in the back seat of the car. I turned to Marty again. **** He was smiling. **

**Marty Evans: ****The biggest heartbreak at Westfield. Girls clung onto him like bees to honey. I don't blame them. He was quite the boy. He had warm hazel eyes that sent electric shocks into mine. His wide smile escaping out. His brown hair being brushed back by the wind. Looking at him, I started to smile.**

**I was smiling in the first time for a while. Marty made me smile. I stared at him. He looked so calm and carefree. I want to be calm like him. I want to be carefree. I want to be like a regular teenager. One that doesn't live in constant fear of her own father. I just wanted a happy teenage life. **

**"So are you sure that Howie and Lydia are going to be fine?" Howie and Lydia were the other half of our little pack.**

**"Who cares?Most likely they already forgot about our existence. They're probably making out." Marty laughed. I laughed along knowing that it was most likely true. **

**Howie had platinum blonde hair and a freaky tan line. He was a surfer and spent most of his days at the beach 'catching waves.' Lydia was an obsessive beauty ****pageant freak. We say obsessive because she has been planning to win Miss America since she came out of the womb. She has the looks for it, obviously. Chocolate hair and shiny green eyes that could manipulate you into doing anything she wanted. Howie and Lydia were the most unlikely couple together yet they were so perfect. **

**The car came to a halt. "Which route Miss Spencer?" There were two roads in front of us. One was the normal way to get back home; the other was a shortcut we discovered years ago. **

**"Short Route. if I get home late, My dad will kill me. Literally." **

**Marty turned to me. His smile has faded away. He looked serious, "Hey." He laid a hand on my shoulder, "I still think that you need to report this. It's child abuse."**

**I swatted his hand away, "Oh c'mon Marty. I was just joking." It wasn't a joke though. And ironically enough, he did end up killing me...literally. I brushed my worries away, "It's nothing...really."**

**"No. Spencer! It's not a nothing. He's hurting you! He's hurting Andrew!" He took a deep breath, "How do you think I feel? Huh? How do you think Lydia feels? or Howie? When you come to school trying to hide your bruises? When Andrew comes in with a black eye, making up excuses? Saying that he fell! That he bumped his head! Guess what Spencer! Your abusive dad caused those bruises and you need to report it!" **

**"SHHH!" I hushed him down, "People can hear us!"**

**"If you fear him," He put his thumb on my cheek, "It's only going to give him more power."**

**I jerked away angrily. Marty doesn't understand what's been going on. Of course I wanted to tell...to report my abuser to the police. But I couldn't. "What am I supposed to do?! Report him to people that won't believe me? What if he comes back home, uncharged? He used to hit us for no reason. Do you know what he'll be like when we give him a reason?"**

**That shut him right up. I took a deep breath. "So short route?" His voice was calm again. I nodded but didn't look at him. **

**...**

**...**

**We pulled up next to the house. It reeked of the terror that my dad thrived off of. I leaned to the back seat to grab my shoes. Pulling them up, I looked back at Marty. I could tell that he was sorry. I knew I shouldn't have freaked out on him earlier. Part of me knew that he was right. My dad had too much power. But it scared me. Thinking about what would happen to regain some of the power again. **

**"Hey. I'm sorry that I freaked earlier. It's just a hard subject. I just don't like to think about it."**

**Marty nodded understandingly, "I know. I'm sorry. I know how much this had made you suffer. It hurts to watch you suffer. I just want to help."**

**"I know." I was looking down and fidgeting with my fingers.**

**"Spencer?"**

**I looked up, "Yeah?"**

**"You do know that you're going to have to tell them eventually...right?"**

**I waited a while before answering, "Yeah. I know." I got out of the car holding my shoes in one hand. I walked towards the curb of the sidewalk and looked back at Marty. I smiled at him one last time, "Thanks." **

**If I knew that was going to be the last time I'll ever see Marty, I'd probably said way more. But I didn't. My last words to Marty were "Thanks." **

**...**

**...**

**I walked inside of the house. The sound of wood slamming behind me. The air reeked of alcohol. **

**I stopped. My shoes dropped to the floor. Oh no. He was drinking again. Wait. **

**Where's Andrew? **

**I heard a sharp cry of pain from upstairs. It was Andrew's scream. I recognized it because it sounded so much like mine. I dashed towards the counter picking up the newly-empty bottle of whiskey. It wasn't the best weapon for self defense but it will do. I held it tightly in my hand. My foot raced up the stairs. I knew exactly where the cry was coming from. The bathroom. I rushed in to find Andrew with blood pouring from his nose and eyes. Part of me squirmed at the sight of all that blood. The other part wanted to make that bastard pay for what he did to my brother. **

**Then something shiny caught my eye. It was a knife. He was holding a knife in his hand. He's hurt us before but never like this. No. He would never use a knife. Would he?**

**I couldn't think about that. He was raising the knife at Andrew. I couldn't let this happen. I won't let this happen. Not to Andrew. I dashed forward slamming the bottle against his head. Glass shattered everywhere. The momentum caused him to collapse onto the floor. Glass shards pierced onto the skin. Rivers of blood flowing down from it. **

**For a while I stood in shock of what just happened. I could tell that Andrew was confused too. Did I just kill my father? We were both looking down at the man who laid on the ground unconscious. Andrew carefully tip-toed around him and rushed me out. **

**"He's not dead." his breath was panting.**

**"But he looks dead."**

**"But he's not. And he's going to come after you. You need to leave."**

**I clung onto Andrew, "Not without you."**

**"No. Listen. I won't make it far. You need to leave. Like now."**

**"why can't you come?" **

**"Look at me Spencer! There's blood all over my face. He practically pounded every muscle in my body. If I come with you, I will only bring you down. You need to leave now! And fast."**

**My heart was racing. Tears down my face, "No. No! Not without you!" **

**"Either you live, or we both die. You're leaving now!"**

**"What do you mean? Are you saying you're going to die?"**

**Andrew was shaking, "When he can't find you, he'll come home. He'll blame me for it. So yeah. I'm going to die."**

**"Then what if I stay? I'll take blame. You can run!"**

**"Who do you think he is Spencer? He's not going to reason with us!" Tears were flowing from his bloody eyes. **

**Behind him I saw my dad flinch a little. HE slowly rose up to a crouch. Then higher until he was standing. He looked mad. He looked pissed. Andrew swung his head towards me yelling, "GO! GO! GO NOW!" **

**I looked at him one last time. This time, I knew it was going to be the last time I see him. "Call the police after he leaves." He nodded back, "Be careful okay?" My eyes were clogged with tears as I stared at Andrew.**

** He stared back at me. "You need to leave. You have the advantage now."  
**

**I nodded as I sprinted away from Andrew. I ran outside as the heat slapped across my body. **

**The hot summer air brushed against my skin as I ran.**

I stared at the girl. "As fun it is to listen to you talk about be like you know me, I'm more interested in your little friend over here." I looked at the boy again. He looked confused but not afraid.

"What the fuck do you want to do with him?" She sounded jealous.

Then I said it. I told the two of them what I noticed when the boy first walked in. I told them the reason I couldn't keep my eyes off of him. I told them the reason why he's different than any other boy I have ever met. Why I stared at him. Why I felt possessed to stare at him.

There was a connection. There was something that connects him to me. And I told them.

"You're a rapist. A drug addict. An alcoholic. A killer. A rapist." I shivered as I said it. I could see the boy tense up. The girl looked scared. But deep down, she wasn't scared the way I was. What scared me wasn't what I said. It was the way I said it. It was the way I smiled when I said it.

**_AN: OKAY SO THIS GOES INTO SPENCER'S BACKSTORY MORE. THERE HASN'T BEEN MUCH ROMANCE BETWEEN HER AND TATE YET. WARNING, THEY WILL START OFF IN A ENEMY KIND OF STAGE SINCE VIOLET DOESN'T GET ALONG WITH HER. BUT IT'LL GET BETTER LATER AND EVERYONE WILL HAVE THAT PRETTY HAPPILY EVER AFTER._**

**_MAYBE..._**


	4. Chapter 4

"What?" The girl whispered.

The boy stood stiffly. "Why would you say that?"

I rolled my eyes. "You guys are such a bore." I walked up to the girl, "I like you." I didn't really like her. "We should talk..." I glanced around. "separately?" I looked towards the boy who stood protectively next to her.

"Uh-uhm" SHe looked at the boy nervously, "Yeah."

We made our way up the stairs and into a purple room. In fact it was the same purple room I died in. My body was gone though. Hayden said that she would take care of my corpse. I trusted Hayden. So far she's the only person in this house I can trust.

"I think we're the same size. what size are you?"

"What? I thought we were here to talk about Tate." Ah the boy had a name.

"But then again you have a little boy body so I'm not exactly sure." The girl slouched so much that I can't tell if she's short or just hunched over.

"What are you talking about?"

"I need clothes. You need answers." I examined her clothes. They are so 20 years ago. But then again it can pass for vintage. "You're a small right?"

She stared at me before answering, "Uhm. Yeah. Sure. There's a bucket in the corner. It has all my old clothes before I died."

I walked my way towards the corner. Indeed there was a bucket there. I pulled out the articles of clothing one by one. A mustardy old cardigan. I tossed it on the floor. It looked gross. A floral sundress. Another toss on the ground. A black t-shirt with the words "Normal People Scare Me" written over it. toss. Then something caught my eye. I pulled it up laughing. "Oh damn. Kinky." It was a black rubber body suit.

"That's not mine." She tried snatching it from my hands but I moved my hands before she could reach me.

"Shit, it's like really tight." I stared at her, "Is it like having sex with a human sized- latex dildo?" I started laughing. Then I tossed it to the ground and continued my search. I pulled out a raccoon hat. "What is this road kill?" toss. Finally. I pulled out a pair of denim shorts. "I like these."

"Okay. Are we done?"

"What? Are you insane? Am I supposed to walk around wearing a pair of shorts and what else? A bra?"

"Ughh." She laid down on the bed covering her eyes.

I pulled out a sweater. A button down shirt. I shrugged. This would have to do. I kept looking. Maroon tights. A pair of oxford shoes and a black rimmed hat. "Okay, I'm going to change."

The girl was lying on the bed. "Whatever!"

I made my way into the bathroom. There was an old bathtub, which I guess was pretty new two decades ago. I stripped from my purple dress and stared at my naked body. I hate my body. not because of the figure. No, the figure was great. I hated the cuts and slits along my body. Bruises that reminded me of my father. They still hurt as I ran my fingers over them. My wrists slashed with razors. My eyes scanned my body. A constant reminder of all the pain and suffering I've been through.

I shook my head and picked up the clothes I've chosen. The button down shirt tucked into the denim shorts. the hat on my shiny hair. The maroon tights help hide the scars. I laced up the oxfords. I pulled along the sleeves of my shirt and smiled because they were long enough to hide the scars.

I walked out of the room. "What do you think?"

Surprisingly Tate was there. So was...Hayden?

"You look great!" Hayden smiled. It was a sly smile.

"What are you doing here?"

"Just telling these kids a fun bedtime story." She put a finger to her chin, "What is it called?" She pretended to ponder on the thought, "Oh yes. Hansel and Gretal get raped and abused by their father." She clung onto her elbows, "MMMm. Delicious!"

"You didn't." My voice dropped. I felt my face getting pale. "Tell me you didn't!"

"Ohh..." She smiled another sly smile, "But I did." Was this the Hayden I trusted so dearly? The one that I counted on?

Tate and Violet stood next to each other in silence. They both looked at me in pity. As if I was some charity case in need of care. Maybe they thought I was some stray dog that needed rescuing.

"What did you say?" It came out more as a grunt.

"Nothing much. Just telling our little Tate here that he's not alone. He has a lot of mommy issues but your daddy issues...well they are...killer...aren't they?" She was laughing now. I felt tears burn down my cheeks. This was the girl I told my whole life story to and now she's here telling them everything.

I stormed out of the room, knowing I couldn't take it any longer. All those years with my abusive father I've learned that you could never stand up to a crazy person. Plus I couldn't let the three people I hated the most (well the only three people i know) see me crying. No. I'm Spencer. I've been through far worst and I'm not going to be weak because of them.

I heard a shuffling of footsteps behind me. That only made me pick up my pace. I didn't even bother to turn , like a supernatural force, I could feel a pair of black eyes behind me.

"Hey! Hey. Slow down will you? I can't walk that fast."

I turned around still sobbing.

"Well actually I can. I used to be on the track team." He laughed, i guess hoping to break the tension. I didn't laugh though. I was still crying.

It was as if everything started to come back. My memories with Andrew. Those nights with Marty. Howie and Lydia. All of that is gone now and I can feel myself drowning in the realization.

"Hey. don't cry. I don't exactly know what to do with girls who cry."

But I couldn't stop. All of a sudden I felt so vulnerable. me. Spencer. Feeling vulnerable, scared, terrified. I felt each one of my scar suddenly burn with anger. With fear.

Then I did something I never thought I would have done. But at that moment I felt like I didn't care. I rushed into Tate and pressed my face into his shoulder. And I cried. I cried so hard. We didn't talk. WE didn't have to talk. We kinda just stood there. He didn't move. I guess he knew how I felt and that made me feel guilty. Maybe I was too quick to judge him. I shouldn't have judged him the way I did.

But I brushed away those thoughts. I couldn't think about those thoughts. All that I could think about was what happened before.

**I was walking down the hall way. My heels dug into the ground as I hastened my pace. ****Lydia and Howie were off somewhere probably having sex. ****Marty was by my side. We weren't exactly talking. Marty could tell that something happened last ni****ght. something happened again.**

**Walking towards us was Andrew. He wore a pair of sunglasses that covered his eyes. You could still see part of the dark blue-ish purple mark that my dad left. His face was looking nervously at the ground. As he passed us he raised his head a little then quickly scrambled back down. **

**Marty let in a deep breath of air. I knew what that meant. I stopped him before he could even start. "Don't tell me. I already know... But you know how hard it is. After all...he's a retired police officer...and ...we're just two teenagers."**

**Marty nodded hesitantly and we continued walking in silence. While we walked I realized how much i appreciated Marty being there next to me. Even him... so quiet...it was soothing. We both turned at the next left and into economics class. The bell rang as if just on time. Behind us, more students flushed into the room chattering about stupid teenage nonsense. **

**Marty and I took our seats in the middle of the classroom. I caught several girls batting their eyelashes at Marty and I let out a slight laugh. My head went back to the board. the teacher stood with his shoulder back and his hands by his side. **

**To me, he looked kind of like a troll. Or an elf. His skin was insanely pale. He had black hair that he smothered down with gel. His nose had a super freaky sharp point. He had a pair of black rimmed glasses that sat on top of his sharp nose. His lips were very chapped. He had a disgusting habit of licking them which made them more chapped. **

**Unlike a troll, or an elf, was tall. So tall it intimidated ****everyone in the room. His voice came out booming, like thunder. His hands were bony. The skin was so thin, it was as if, his hands were just skeletal. **

**"Ms. Harold?" His voice boomed.**

**"Here!" Lydia waved her perfectly polished nails in the air. Wiggling them as if to show off the shine and color.**

**"Mr. Hemrain." A boy with greasy purple hair raised his hand up.  
**

**"Here." There was a slight voice crack. The rest of the class giggled uncomfortably then returned to silence.**

**"Ms. Hart?"**

**That was me. I raised my hand up in the air, careful not to let my sleeve roll down. "Here!" I said trying to sound as confident as i possible can. I hope it worked because the rest of the class ignored it. Only Marty looked at me. He looked worried. I gave him a fake smile and he hesitantly looked away.**

**i listened as the teacher continued on with the rest of the list. My eyes wandered around, tired. I haven't had a good sleep in so long and it killed me. I let my eyes flutter shut then blink nervously making sure I don't fall asleep.**

**"Ms. Hart?" I heard a distant voice call my name. "Spencer!" The loud voice snapped me out of my daze.**

**"Ye-yeah?" I stuttered out.**

**"Would you like to answer the question? Or do you want to continue sleeping through my class?"**

**I felt my face get red. A few laughs came from the rest of the students. "Uhm. Yeah. What's the question again?"**

**"Well. If you were listening the first time, you would have known it."**

**"Yeah. Sorry about that."**

**He gave me a disapproving look. "Ms. Hart." his voice came out harsh. "You do know that you're in high school now. Correct?"**

**I nodded. A little frightened. **

**"Then you should know that you are expected to act like a high schooler."**

**"Yes sir." My voice replied shakily.**

**"You need to grow up!" He looked at me. "Okay?!" He was shouting.**

**"yes sir." I whispered.**

**"Don't think that you can get away with things without any consequences! This isn't a fairytale! Stop daydreaming! You need to wake up!"**

**I wanted to cry but I held it back. The only words that left my mouth was, "Yes sir."**

**"What it comes down to is the fact that you are a disgrace to your family! You come into class with your head down. You don't participate. I can't help but to take you as a joke. A pathetic foolish joke!" **

**I dug my nails into my hand praying that I can stay quite. "Ye-s si-r." I could tell that the whole class' eyes were on me. There was a tension in the room and I surely can't be the one to break it. If I spoke one word my dad would be called to school. Then hell would take over the Hart household.**

**"And don't use your mother's death as an excuse. Many people have suffered through worse but unlike you, they use it to their advantage. Unlike you. You're just sagging around."**

**I felt my head getting purple. "Y-e-s s-i-r."**

**"You're turning into your brother, Spencer. I remember when you used to talk. But now you're turning into him. Hiding like the disgusting coward he is... Always looking down... Look at him. DO you think he's happy? He's alone! No one talks to him because he's a freak!" **

**I felt my heart rate increasing. I don't give a shit what he says about me, but he can not talk about my brother. I was about to speak up when i realized that if my dad got called in, he wouldn't just take his anger out on me. He would take it out on Andrew too. Instead of speaking back, I just muttered "Yes Sir."**

**"Now tell me Spencer. Why is your brother such an unwanted freak? Why are you turning into an unwanted freak like your brother?" **

**I froze. "Yes sir."**

**"No. Tell . me . a . reason!"**

**Because my dad abuses him. Because he constantly lives in fear not only for himself but also for his little sister. "I-I don't know."**

**"You don't know?" He laughed. "Class. Would any of you like to help out Spencer?" The whole class sat in silence. No one dared to speak up. I looked around nervously. They all had the same look in their eyes. Pity.**

**"That's too far." Marty stood up. He's always had a confidence that shined off from him. Even when he was nervous, which I could tell he was right now.**

**"Excuse me?" walked up towards him. He must have been at least a foot taller than Marty. **

**"I'm just saying that Spencer knows what she did wrong so there's no use to keep humiliating her." No one else dared to speak up. **

**"You think I'm humiliating her? I'm teaching her a lesson." His voice rose with anger. **

**"But you shouldn't talk about her brother like that. Andrew is a cool guy." Howie rose up as well. **

**he scanned the two boys angrily. I watched, scared that he would hurt any one of them. Scared that he would get them in trouble. Instead he just turned around angrily. Howie and Marty sat down looking at me. I knew what they were thinking. Is she okay? I gave them both a reassuring smile. It was fake but they bought it. Then the rest of the school day passed and I paid attention in every single class.**

**And that night, no one got beaten. **

I broke away from Tate, still crying. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I shouldn't have hugg-"

"It's fine." He looked into my eyes. "Are you...okay?" I could see hints of my purple eyes in his black ones.

"No." I laughed awkwardly. "No I am not."

"Do you- want to talk about it?"

"After what happened, I don't think talking about it would help."

"Oh that's only because Hayden's...crazy. She's an insane bitch. You really shouldn't listen to her."

"Lesson learned." I laughed wiping the tears off my face. "It just felt so nice...you know? For someone to listen to what you have to say. Especially now that all my real friends are living...and well...I'm dead."

"I guess you can talk to me?" He looked at me, "And Violet. She's really nice and caring." He quickly added.

Ah. Violet. Her name is Violet.

"Yeah. I guess." I tugged at the bottom of my sleeve again. I've figured out a long time ago that I do that when I'm uncomfortable. It's been a habit ever since I started cutting.

Tate must have noticed cause the next thing he did was grab my wrist.

"Ow. Let me go." He didn't listen. He looked down.

"You cut."

"No I don't." I snatched my hand back towards me and pulled at the sleeve.

"Why do you cut?"

I looked at him. WHy do I cut? "Because I wanted to die."

"And you thought that cutting would kill you."

"Of course not. I wanted to die slowly. Like over time. I wanted to be in control. Cutting gave me a sense of control."

"Well here's a tip, if you really want to die, cut vertically-"

"Doctors can't stitch that up. Blah-blah-blah-blah-blah." Violet walked out mocking him. Tate instantly smiled and turned around. His arms wrapped around Violet.

"Hayden left you know. My room is Hayden-free now. Feel free to come in and talk." Violet hummed.

"Thanks." I smiled. "But I'm in the mood for something to eat..." I turned away from them, "Or kill myself with" I whispered silently to myself.


	5. Chapter 5

**The grass was covered in dew drops. Bugs were crawling around trying to avoid the water. Some crawled towards me. I carefully shifted my balance to dodge them. **

**The ceremony has just ended. Andrew had his arm linked around mine as we walked back towards the gravel parking lot. I bet he could see that I was trying not to cry. **

**"It's okay. She's in a better place."**

**I nodded. I truly believe him.**

**"She's in heaven. She's going watch over us from now on."**

**There was a silence before I spoke up. "I miss her." I started sobbing.**

**"I know." His voice became low. "Me too."**

**Then we walked silently back towards the car. When we reached the dusty red truck, we waited for our dad. He walked over, his face pale and washed out. **

**My dad has always had thinning brown hair. ****He had a pair of dull hazel eyes that shows all the pain and stress he's gone through.**

**He had wrinkles which formed from all the worrying he's been forced through. He dressed in a dark black suit. The pant leg was long enough to hide a scar that a criminal left on him years ago. I don't think it ever healed. I don't think it ever will.**

**"Are you guys ready?" I could see that his eyes were red. Either from lack of sleep or crying. Probably both.**

**Andrew and I both went in for a hug. My father wrapped his arms around us. Then he knelt down and looked at us. "I know it's been hard but I promise that it'll get better."**

**Then I started crying even harder. I could see tears in Andrew's eyes as well. **

**...**

**...**

**Back at the house a crowd of people waited in silence. Friends, family members, neighbors. They were all there to cheer us up. Or at least try to. **

**My father parked the car into the driveway. We all got out and walked inside. The warmth of our home welcomed us in from the cold october air. The smell of fresh baked pies and store bought pies came from all the families hoping we could eat our problems away. I found Marty Howie and Lydia sitting in the corner next to their parents and walked over to join them. **

**Andrew walked over to all his friends and their parents. **

**A wave of "I'm so sorry for your loss" and "God will take care of her in heaven" washed over the both of us. We both smiled a fake smile. The parents then all left to mingle with the other guests. **

**Andrew sat down at the table across the room from me. His friends from football showed up. So did his friends from lacrosse. Some of his friends from baseball. A lot of girls. Basically everyone who liked Andrew showed up...and EVERYONE likes Andrew. **

**I was sitting on the couch with Lydia next to me. Marty was standing with Howie. They started talking about school. My attention slowly drifted away to my dad. **

**My dad was in his normal spot. The big leather armchair. Next to him was Officer Jarold. I listened in on their conversations**

**"Hey. Sorry about what happened with Carol. You two were really in love."**

**"Yeah. I'm going to be fine. I know that she's going to be happier in heaven than stuck down here with me." He took a deep breath, "I'm just worried about the kids. Spencer's only twelve and Andrew's thirteen. It's too much for them to handle .Especially with Andrew's sports and all." That was my dad. He would always worry about us before himself.**

**" I have faith that they can get through this. Spencer and Andrew are strong kids."**

**"They got that from their mother."**

**"And from you. You were the best one on our force." Jarold leaned in, "Are you sure you want to retire?"**

**My dad took another deep sigh, "I feel like it's the right thing to do. The kids just lost a mother. I need to be around them as much as I can."**

**"Okay. But we're going to miss you." **

**"Yeah, well I'm going to miss the force. Being on there made me feel useful in this world, you know."**

**"Exactly, with all these disgusting people that live in the world. It's a nice feeling to put the bad ones away."**

**"After everything I've seen. I don't know. I've become paranoid for Andrew and Spencer."**

**"Well good thing they have a dad like you who can fight those people away." Jarold picked up two cans of beer. "You want one?" He held a can up towards my dad.**

**He shook his head. "Nah. I don't drink." It's true. I have never seen my dad drink once in his life. Grandma said that he never drank. Not even in college.**

**"Come on. It'll help with the grief. For god's sake you need to relax. Especially now."**

**"But I don't want my kids to see me drinking."**

**"Oh dear god Henry. You have to stop thinking about the kids and start thinking about yourself! Just take one drink. What's the worse that can happen?"**

**I watched as my dad pondered on the thought. THen he reluctantly agreed. He took the can, "Yeah. What's the worse that can happen?"**

**I knew that Andrew was watching too. We both watched as our dad took the first sip of alcohol. And I guess he liked it because next week, he couldn't stop drinking.**

A week has passed since my death at Murder House. Hayden has managed to tell everyone about me. Everywhere I walked, "That's the girl who got raped." "That's the girl who got abused by her own father." "That's the girl who had to watch her own brother get abused." "Oh poor girl." Eventually I started hiding in the basement.

Also in the basement was a lady named Nora. She had curly locks of blonde hair that reminded me so much of my mom. I couldn't help but to be intrigued by her appearance. She looked exactly like my mother.

Nora told me about how she died. She told me how she always wanted a baby but when she got one, she didn't know what to do. Slowly we formed a sisterly/motherly bond. I started to tell her about my story. She stopped me before I could begin.

"Oh honey. I know. Hayden has told everyone. Like everyone."

"Yeah. I'm not surprised."

Nora showed me her 'demon baby' Thaddeus. She also led me to a room where her husband practiced. All around us were jars of body parts. I cringed at the sight and quickly scrambled out of there.

Noon arrived and I finally decided to show my face upstairs. It was my first time upstairs since what happened with Hayden. Right as I turned the corner I ran into Violet.

"Hey." Her voice was full of pity and regret.

I faked a smile, "Hey."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well...you know."

"Yeah. I know." My voice was cold and distant as I walked away from her.

Next stop was the kitchen. I sat silently behind the counter. I liked the silence.

But the silence was also deadly. It scared me. It gave me the opportunity to think. Once I start thinking, I start to worry. Often my worrying would lead to panic attacks. I start to get anxious. I'm starting to feel anxious now.

I took in a deep breath of air. What was I so stressed out about? I'm dead! There's nothing to be worried about anymore. Who cares if they talk about me? Who cares what they say behind my back? I'm dead, goddammit, and if they want to talk about me, then they can. Why should I care?

Of course I care. I have always cared and I always will. It's like half of my (dead) brain wants to block everyone out and the other (equally dead) half wants to know they accept me.

I took in another deep breath of air. I hated breathing. I hated it so much. I'm dead. Why the fuck am I still breathing? God it's so stupid. To have air passing in and out of you. Filling your lungs then leaving without notice.

I really wish I had some cocaine right now. Cocaine helped with the breathing problem. I did it to a point where I literally could not breath. It was like drowning. Gasping for air but praying that no air would actually enter.

"So how's death treating you?" I looked up, startled. It was Tate. I haven't talked to him ever since I awkwardly hugged him yesterday.

"Ahh. Just amazing." I didn't care if he was a psychotic killer anymore. Right now I wanted a friend and Tate is going to be a friend. He's the only person in the house who doesn't talk to me out of pity. Then again, he's the only person in the house who murders and rapes.

"Amazing?"

"Amazingly fucked up."

"Yeah" He tapped his fingers on the counter, "that's more like it."

I looked around the room. "Is being dead always this boring?"

"Boring? Being stuck in a crazy house full of crazy people..." He leaned against the counter. "How could that possibly be boring?"

"Well, you're lucky. You got stuck with the love of your life." I pointed out in a sing songy voice. Tate looked at me confused. Did he think I meant myself? "I'm talking about Violet...dumbass."

Tate laughed. "Yeah...well...Violet really is something special." He looked up at me, "Isn't she?"

"I guess so?"

There was a gap of silence. Tate decided to break it. "She use to hate me you know?" Tate suddenly looked at me seriously.

"What?"

"Violet used to hate me."

I examined his face. Was he lying to me? "Hah. Shit. You two are like...what? Soul Mates? Freaking Romeo and Juliet!"

"She was my juliet all right.

I shrugged, "that's romantic."

"Raping her mother is not."

The comment didn't take effect immediately. At first it brushed past me. The words, then, drilled themselves into my brain. I looked at him...jaw dropped, eyes shocked. "That's who you raped?" -no reply- "You raped her mother?" -no reply- "HER FUCKING MOTHER?"

"Oh jesus. Calm down."

"Calm down? God why the fuck would you rape your girlfriend's mother?" I paused looking at him. "Why the fuck is she still with you?"

Tate looked down, "Because we're destined to be together. Forever."

"Oh. Bulll-Shit! You raped her mother!"

"Yeah, well when you're in a house full of ghosts...shit happens."

Tate was right. I knew it. This house was filled with crazy dead freaks. A drugged surgeon. A demon baby. A raging horny bitch who stabs people after sex. "You're not going to rape anyone else...will you?" I stared at him inattentively.

Tate laughed, "Oh are you seriously scared that I'm going to rape you?"

I looked at him seriously.

"Oh come on. It was one time. I didn't mean for it to hurt anyone!"

"That's an asshole thing to say." I blurted out.

Tate cocked his head to the side. "Oh come on. I thought you out of all people would understand!"

"You thought a girl who has been raped before would understand what a rapist is going through? Are you fucking insane?"

"Call it whatever you want but there is something different about you."

"It's called paranoia. I got it because of my abuser." I stood up straight. "Abusers like you."

"It happened before you were born. Get the fuck over it! Violet did!"

I continued my way out the room.

"Whatever! Like I care anyways! You're just some California Bitch!" I was fully out of the room when he said it. The words dashed through the doors and stung into my mind. California Bitch.


	6. Chapter 6

**I was in the kitchen pouring myself a glass of milk. My bruised hands gripped around the carton and slowly poured the liquid into the cup. I stopped when I heard footsteps nearing the room. I felt a nervous breeze brush past my body. **

**Please don't be him. Please don't be him. **

**I felt the milk carton shaking in my hands. Goosebumps were rising from my skin. **

**Please don't be him. Please don't be him.**

**the footsteps got louder and heavier. I blinked quickly, silently praying that it's not him. ****The shadow finally emerged from the corner. **

**It was Andrew. **

**I let out a sigh of relief and continued pouring my milk. "Morning." I whispered to him. **

**Morning. How ironic. The way it sounds so much like mourning. **

**Andrew gave a smirk. Haven't seen one of those since...since before _he_ ****started it. "Morning" Andrew whispered back. We couldn't talk loudly. Well, we could...but it was too risky. Talking too loud could wake him up.**

**This was the world we live in now. We live in constant fear. **

**"Ready for school?" I took a sip from my milk and grabbed my back pack from the counter. **

**"Am I ever?"**

**I giggled a little but hushed myself. Andrew gave me a look and picked up his back pack. I furrowed my brows a bit as we walked out of the house. **

**"What?"**

**"There's football practice today...right?" I asked in my normal voice. Leaving the house meant freedom. It's like a breath of fresh air. **

**"Yeah."**

**"Well where's your bag?"**

**"What bag?" Andrew looked down nervously. **

**"Your football bag? With your equipments? And your gear?"**

**"oh." Andrew dragged his hands through his hair, "Yeah. I'm not gunna be on the team for a while." He spoke quickly and casually. His eyes quickly darted all over the place avoiding me. **

**"What?" I stopped walking. "How? Like what?"**

**"Well it's not permanent. Coach said it was a suspension."**

**"Why would he suspend you? You're the best on the team!"**

**"But I've been coming into practice injured."**

**Injured. I knew exactly what that meant.**

**"I told him that it was an accident. That I got into some stupid fight with the punks at Tenyard."**

**Accident. Ah, the oldest trick in the book. Accident is exactly what I would tell Howie when he asked about the red blotches around my arm. I pulled my sleeves down at the reminder to cover up better. "Did he believe that? The preps at Tenyard would never beat up the quarterback of Westfield."**

**"I don't know. He didn't really question it. He just said that if I get into any more fights I'm off the team..period."**

**"Well what's your excuse going to be the next time he hits you?" I crossed my arms, "We need to report. Now. I'm not about to throw my life away because of him."**

**Andrew widened his eyes. "No. they're not going to believe us. He used to be on the force. He used to be one of them." He leaned in a little, "If he finds out that we reported him...do you know the shit he's going to put us through? Both of us? He's going to do way worse than what he does now."**

**My mind dashed around for more ideas but I knew that there were none. "Fine. It's just annoying. Football is your only ticket to a good college."**

**Andrew put his hands on my shoulders. "I'll find another way. Don't worry about me." **

"Hey. Don't worry about me." I reached my hand out towards Charles. "I've done it before."

I watched as Charles wavered. "Fine. But be careful." He finally placed the baggie into my hand. "And don't tell Nora I gave it to you."

I lifted the bag up and down noticing the light weight, "This is all you have?"

"If I give you anymore you'll die."

"So what? I'm already dead."

Charles faltered again before shrugging and switching the bag. In my hands was a new bag. Inside was double the cocaine than before. "Good doing business with you Charles." I smiled.

"Same with you. just remember. This remains between us."

"Yes. Mum's the word."

"What?"

"Oh was that not a saying during your era?"

"Bye Spencer." Charles hurried me out.

I laughed a little. "Okay. Bye Charles!"

"And no telling Nora!" His voice echoed.

Right as I walked through the doors I ran into Tate. Oh, just my luck.

His head darted up and stared right at me. He noticed my bag and started laughing, "Cocaine?"

"Cocaine." I stated back.

"Didn't know you were a druggie."

"Didn't know you were a rapist."

Tate rolled his head backwards. "Fuck Spencer... Are you kidding me?"

"I'm sorry. Unlike you, I can't joke about rape."

"I never joked about it! Plus everyone forgot! Why can't you?" He was shouting.

"Maybe I can't forget."

"Why? Because your dad raped you? BEcause that's how you knew I was a rapist? Because your dad and I shared the same personality? Don't throw that bullshit at me because i won't buy it."

I stepped back. "What bullshit!?"

"Oh come on. You don't really expect me to believe that you just knew about me."

"What are you saying?"

"Your bullshit lie about...what was it? You knew about my past because there was some connection between me and your dad? That's a shitty lie."

"That wasn't a lie" but it was. And like Tate said...it was a shitty lie.

"There is no way you just realized that I did...what I did."

"Well I did." I crossed my arms.

Tate twisted his neck to the side, "Hah. Whatever."

I rolled my eyes and walked right out.

**"What are you doing here?" The shadow asked.**

**I twirled my hair with my fingers. "What do you think? Same thing as everyone else."**

**"And you think I'll sell to you?" A figure emerged from the darkness. "You're only a high schooler."**

**"For fuck's sakes, Michael. Everyone knows who you are. Everyone knows about your reputation." I crossed my arms. **

**"What do they say about me?" Michael asked. He had shaggy blonde hair and a pair of icy blue eyes.**

**"College drop out who lives the rest of his life selling drugs to kids."**

**Michael shrugged, "Better than I thought."**

**"Oh and a crazy psycho path who may or may not be a serial killer."**

**"And you're stupid enough to buy drugs from an alleged serial killer?"**

**"Brave." I corrected him.**

**The figure laughed. "Brave. Okay." He paused, "Why do they think I'm a serial killer?" His voice was lower now. He seemed worried. **

**"I don't know. Ever since your mother was murdered-"**

**"She's not my mother. She was just some whore."**

**I shifted uncomfortably. "Well people think you killed her."**

**"Do you believe them?" He looked at me straight in the eyes. **

**"If I say yes, will you still sell to me?"**

**Another laugh from Michael. "Okay. So what are you here for? Some snow? Acid? LSD?"**

**"Just grab me a bag of dust and I'll get out of your hair."**

**I watched as Michael moved around, twisting around in his small dark space. "That'd be three."**

**"Three?"**

**"****Three hundred. In cash." he reached out his dry hands motioning for the money.**

**"I don't have that kind of money." I stammered. **

**"Well then you shouldn't have come to me."**

**I furrowed my brows, "They said that you sold the cheap stuff."**

**"I sell the good stuff." Micheal rolled his eyes.**

**"Well can I just get the stuff now and pay the cash later?"**

**"I don't do that." **

**"Is there any other way for me to pay?" **

**Michael cocked his head examining me. "I might think of something."**

**-three weeks later-**

**I sat down on Michael's couch. "Business is booming." i spoke in a ****nasally accent.**

**"All thanks to you." Michael leaned in giving me a kiss. **

**I backed away. "I'm just here for the powder." I raised my eyebrows, "Strictly business."**

**"Oh bullshit. You so like me."**

**I laughed, "ha! Do not!"**

**"Why not?"**

**I shrugged, "Maybe because it's...I don't know...ILLEGAL?"**

**"That makes it hot."**

**"I'm not even eighteen!"**

**"Whatever. Drugs are illegal but you're doing it."**

**"I'm not going to do you." I laughed again.**

**"Oh come on." Michael leaned in smiling. "No one has to know."**

**I shoved him away jokingly. Whilst so, my arms accidentally knocked over a picture. I picked it up quickly examining it. It was an old picture, probably taken from at least four decades ago. In the photo was a boy who looked exactly like Michael, an older lady, a young girl who seems to have what looks like to be down syndrome. **

**"Who is this?"**

**Michael quickly grabbed the picture out of my hands. "Nothing. It's nothing."**

**"Was that you? It looks exactly like you."**

**"No." He paused then looked at me. "That's my dad. Well not my dad. More like some asshole rapist."**

**"Oh my god. I'm so sorry." I responded not knowing what I could say to help. I wasn't sure what he was talking about, but I've heard rumors. They always talk about Michael around school. He is like a sick legend that everyone would pity for.  
**

**"Hah," Michael laughed, "He just raped her and left."**

**I fidgeted with my fingers, "So you don't know who he is? At all?"**

**"I have a picture. Isn't that enough?"**

**"What about your mom? Do you know where she is now?"**

**"Who gives a shit about her? She gave birth than left too. Everyone ends up leaving." He paused, "Like...At least have the decency to get an abortion."**

**"Well...who rasied you?"**

**"That old hag in the picture. She raised me. The same cock sucker that raised the fucking rapist."**

**I scooted closer to Michael. My hands found their way to his icy cold ones. I caressed them tightly. **

**Before me sat a new Michael that seemed so foreign to me. The vulnerability that I've never noticed in the past three weeks drew me in. I watched as those icy eyes turn lukewarm. His shaggy hair was no longer messy, it was just a security blanket that he hid under. Those lips- Oh god those lips- I quickly rushed to those lips. I pressed mine against his. Surprisingly, they were warm.**

**Oddly they had a taste as well. One that I was hoping to brush away and ignore. But I couldn't for his lips tasted warm...of blood.**


	7. Chapter 7

When I first met Tate, I knew I recognized him. His face, his hair, everything about him looked so familiar. He looked so much like Michael that it scared me. I even began to think that Michael was a ghost. That would explain a lot of things. Why Michael's hands were always so cold, why he felt so distant, why his eyes seemed so soulless.

But those eyes showed me who Tate really was. Those eyes are hard to forget. The only time I've seen those eyes was in pictures. A pair of coal black eyes that scared me. They probably scare everyone.

Honestly, I would never have made a connection between Tate and my dad. It was a bad excuse, quite flimsy and unbelievable. If I was defending myself, I would say that I didn't have much time to come up with a better lie. I, obviously, couldn't bring up Michael either. If only I was a better liar, perhaps like Hayden, Tate would have never even questioned the story.

Those times that I went to Tate for comfort...I guess it was just instinct. Instinct from when I loved Michael. Loved? No. Love. I still love him. Even after everything...I will always love him... forever.

**I backed away from Michael's lips. "I'm so sorry." My face was burning red. Was it from embarassment or because I actually liked it? "I really shouldn't have done ****that. I know-"**

**Before I could finish Michael placed his lips back on mine. The warm taste of iron rushed back towards my mouth. It tasted disgusting...or did it? Slowly and slowly I felt myself attached to the taste. A bizarre and scary taste that began to feel sweet. **

**I rushed away surprised at my new strange liking for the taste. I looked up at Michael again and began to smile. "I'm sorry." I laughed a little.**

**"Don't be sorry." Michael laughed back. He cupped my face with his hands. Icy cold hands almost as cold as his eyes.**

**He kissed me again. This time I didn't break away. Slowly I started to move my hands towards his face. They felt right there. **

**It was Michael who broke away from the kiss this time. His fingers were around my wrists. "You cut?"**

**I quickly scrambled my hands back, fingers tugging at my sleeves. I really need to cover up better. "No."**

**"Then what are those?" He pointed along the lines of slits around my arms. **

**"Nothing." I avoided his stare. Those eyes could break me, no doubt.**

**"Why do you cut?" His hands reached back for my wrists. He placed a grip around them and examined the wounds of my arm.**

**I shrugged, "Why do I cut? I don't know..." I thought about this. Why do I cut? Maybe because I had control over cutting. Maybe because it made me feel better about my life. Or maybe because I just want to die.**

**"Oh come on. You can tell me." **

**"I know...it's just hard to talk about."**

**Michael looked at me, "I used to cut too. Did you know that?"**

**"WHy'd you cut then?"**

**"I cut because...there's something about all that blood. I drown in it." He stared at his wrists where there's still faint scars from past slits, "Did you know that the Indians used to cut to get rid of the bad spirits." He chuckled a bit. "You must think I'm insane...don't you?"**

**"No. Not insane-" I paused, "Maybe a little. But seriously... Who isn't a little insane?"**

**Michael let out a grin, "I like that..." He paused before looking into my eyes, " but I love you."**

**"Well that's a lie." I rolled my eyes.**

**"Come again?"**

**"No way you're into me."**

**"Oh come on. I love you Spencer." He leaned back raising his hands in the air, "I LOVE SPENCER HART!" He screamed.**

**i didn't know how to react. Part of me fluttered. It was rare that someone I liked liked me back. The other part of me transformed into a logical bitch. "Shhh!" I shushed him. "What if your neighbors heard that?"**

**"Then they can go to hell."**

**I laughed, "Okay. So everyone will just randomly go to hell?"**

**"Not everyone. THe smart ones stay quiet."**

**"Ohh! The smart ones." I chuckled, "Okay."**

**"And all the others...I can personally deliver their lifeless bodies to the devil himself." I shivered a bit.**

**"Jesus, it was so romantic until you made it creepy." I laughed, "I mean...delivering bodies to satan?"**

**Michael's expression didn't change, "The things we do for love."**

"Did you love him?" Nora asked placing a hand on mine.

I looked up unexpected. "What?"

"Did you love him?" She repeated.

"Love who?"

"Oh come on. They say eyes tell the greatest love stories. The noble ones, the romantic ones," Nora's eyes lingered down slowly towards the ground, "The tragic ones."

"And...?"

"And your eyes, they show passion, they also show deceit."

"deceit?"

"deceit... Which brings me to ask...Did you love him?"

**I shut the the door quietly as I walked into the room. **

**"I have thirty minutes. My dad will freak if I come home late again." I took off my jacket and placed in on the bed avoiding Michael's glares. I haven't told him about my dad yet. It was too risky. I liked Michael...alot, and if he found out how messed up my life is...he just might bail.**

**"Well then I guess we should hurry." Michael grabbed my waist and pulled me in closer. I smiled and gave him a kiss. "So...do you want to head...to the bed?" Michael raised an eyebrow.**

**I frowned, "Is that really all you can think about?"**

**"It's been a really long time." I rolled my eyes. Was that it? Did he really use that as an excuse?**

**I pushed him away from me. "Really? Is sex all people think? 24/7? Is there no love anymore?"**

**Michael shrugged, "I love you, now let's have sex."**

**I hit him on the shoulder, "Asshole!" It came out more joking than angry.**

**"Hey!" He threw his hands up, "I was just kidding...come on!"**

**"I know." I admitted plopping down on the bed, "It's just that sex is a hard topic for me."**

**"Why? Are you a virgin?" he laughed.**

**I bit my lip. What do I say? No, I'm not a virgin, in fact, believe it or not, my dad took it away from me. Yes when other kids are getting their phones taken away by their parents, my dad was taking my virginity. **

**"Oh. My. God." Michael's jaw dropped to the ground, "You're a virgin!"**

**"I never said that!" **

**"But your eyes gave you away!" He chuckled, "They are overflowing with nervousness..." Nervous, that I was... but probably not the way he thinks. "****Nervous cause you're a virgin!" he added. **

**"Whatever." I crossed my arms frowning. Deep down, I was happy it ended like this. I didn't have to lie and Michael didn't have to find out. **

**"So," Michael twitched his fingers around, "What do we do now?"**

**I looked down at my watch. "Well we have ten more minutes."**

**"Wanna just talk?"**

**"Talking sounds amazing." I crossed my fingers and laid them over my knees.**

**A silence overcame both of us as we scrambled for something to say and nervously didn't want to be the first one.**

**"WHy do you sell drugs?" I blurted out.**

**Michael squinted his eyes, "Wow. Um..I don't really know." He leaned back a bit, "I guess it started when people were asking for them. They asked and I gave. I gave it to the people I didn't like. I couldn't dare giving it to the ones I liked. To send them down the awful path that would become what I am now."**

**"What's wrong with you now? You're happy, healthy, have an incredibly hot girlfriend."**

**"Yeah." Michael chuckled along, "But don't you get it? I'm fucking insane!"**

**He gave out a laugh, "And it's insane...I get these insane dreams. They were more of nightmares. Never ending nightmares. It's always the same...a boy walking down the hallway. My hallway. My hallway of my old school. He would walk down, and I would hear this voice." ****I leaned in closer, "It was calm, it was steady. It spoke about killing. Killing the ones you liked to save them." Again, a silence wedged itself between us before Michael continued reliving his nightmare, "And then he showed it. Him killing everyone he liked. And god- they were terrified. Frightened, but he didn't care. He just continued. And the voice, it became louder and louder...but the tone, it was always steady and calm."**

**I shifted uncomfortably as Michael continued, "It ****started a long time ago and what scared me was that...For a while...I actually started to believe it. That you had to kill those you loved in order to save them from this world. This world that runs on dead corpses controlling the lives of those who just want to be happy."**

**That was the sign. That was the sign that Michael was bad news. He wasn't safe. I should have left that room right then.  
**

**But I stayed there.**

**There was something that made me stay. Perhaps its the twisted fact that I just wanted to save Michael. Make him unbroken. That was it. I wanted to fix him. I wanted to make him better. If only I knew back then, that fixing a monster is a twisted little fantasy that I would never be able to achieve.**

**"Do you still believe it? The voice? That you had to kill people to save them?" The words stung as they left my mouth. **

**"No." There was a hint of doubt in those glassy blue eyes Michael possessed. Little did I know...that tiny hint of doubt, could have been the death of me.**

**My hands shook nervously as the tension in the room rose higher. It was like we were drowning in it but we had no clue.**

**"So. My turn?" Michael asked**

**"Hit me with your best shot." I replied ironically. **

**"Why do you do drugs?" **

**The answer to this was easy. Drugs were an escape.****Yes, an escape from this weird batshit life that I live in. **

**But that wasn't what I said.**

**"Because my mother died from drug overdose." A chill immediatley ran through the back of my spine. What? Because my mom died from drug overdose? What the hell was that supposed to mean?**

**Michael glared at me strangely, "And you want to die?"  
**

**And just like that, my heart took over. It was as if the concept of loving something that could destroy me was engraved onto me. I shook my head slowly, and painfully. Up and down and up and down. "Yeah. I want to die."**


End file.
